


I will walk down to the end with you

by dalex_allen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Teen Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-28
Updated: 2013-11-28
Packaged: 2018-01-02 22:02:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1062134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dalex_allen/pseuds/dalex_allen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cora has a surprise for Stiles and it will change his entire life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I will walk down to the end with you

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this](http://minhod.tumblr.com/post/57008494008/teen-wolf-canon-scenes-rewritten-stiles-didnt). Dedicated to [Andi](http://dnimruoyesol.tumblr.com/). Title from "Old College Try" by the Mountain Goats.

Stiles stood in his room, arms crossed, a frown on his face. Earlier, he’d painted a couple strokes of two different colors right near each other, and now that they were dry he was trying to figure out which was better. The moss green was really easy on the eyes, and gave off a homey feel, but the beige was so classic that Stiles was honestly considering painting everything in the room that color, even the bed and desk. All the furniture was either in another room or piled in the center of his bedroom, because he wanted to get this done today. There was plastic on the floor, painter’s tape along the baseboard and around the windows and door, and he was wearing a basic white shirt and boxers combo. Easier cleanup if he doesn’t have to wash that many clothes.

A knock on the door made him jump, slip on the plastic, and nearly tumble to the ground; it was only by virtue of grabbing onto his bed frame that he saved himself. Grumbling, Stiles went to the door, ready to tell off his dad for interrupting him. But it wasn’t the Sheriff; it was Cora.

“Oh, hey, babe,” he said, smiling widely and stepping aside to let her in the room.

“What are you doing?” she asked, going to sit on what little room was left on his bed. Stiles went back to staring at the two paint swatches contemplatively.

“Painting. Which color do you like? I’m leaning towards the beige but man, that green is good.”

Cora raised her eyebrows and smirked. “Why are you painting, doofus?”

Stiles’ arms uncrossed and he turned to her, his eyes big and innocent. “I mean…I thought you’d like a better color than before. And I sort of asked you, too, I asked you which room you liked best and you said the study and that’s got green walls but you also like the hallways, which have beige walls.”

“Stiles.”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “I was going to ask you to move in. It was supposed to be a surprise, you know, just invite you over and do the usual bedroom eyes stuff that works so well, and then BAM you come up and—”

“I’m pregnant.”

Stiles froze. His mouth kept moving, like he was gasping for air or speaking with a mute button. The full gravity of what she said didn’t really hit him for a full minute, at least, and then his knees gave out and he fell to the floor.

“Stiles! Jesus, are you okay?” Cora was at his side in a moment, hands everywhere, probably trying to gauge if he’d injured himself on the way down. Even if he had, he wouldn’t notice. He was completely numb.

“Pr…pre…preg—oh God, Cora,” Stiles stuttered, his brown eyes meeting hers, trying to search for any sign that she was joking, the usual sparkle she got when she made him laugh. It wasn’t even April. It was _November_ , for God’s sake. Who made April Fool’s jokes in November?

“Yeah. I know.” She sighed and sat with her back against the bed, knees to her chest.

“How did this…Cora…” He was still just dumbfounded. He’d always used a condom with her, because there was no way in hell he was going to piss off Derek Hale like that. Nope. You couldn’t pay him enough. Not to mention it was senior year and he really didn’t want to be spending half of it at doctor’s appointments and Lamaze breathing classes and baby superstores.

“Do you remember that one time in the shower?” Cora said, her voice surprisingly calm and even. Or maybe just numb. “When I said it wasn’t a big deal because it was just once? Well…it was a big deal.”

“Fuck,” Stiles mumbled, burying his head in his hands. The one time they weren’t safe, the one time Stiles had listened to her fully instead of going to his room (admittedly soaking wet and hard) to get a condom…he remembered it exactly, like it happened yesterday, even though it was two months ago. He remembered how soft and warm she was inside, and he remembered how amazing it felt to come without a condom, but Jesus, if he’d known then what would happen…

“I’ve been to the doctor’s and everything,” she said, reaching out and putting a hand on his arm, lowering his hands from his face. “It’s…legit. Not just a random late period coupled with morning sickness. The morning sickness isn’t so bad, though, because that’s mostly due to an increased sense of smell and I already had that.”

“How can you be calm about this?” Stiles interjected, his voice cracking. “How can you just…talk about it? You’re fucking _pregnant_ , we created another human being, I mean they’re not really a human right now, they’re just some cells, probably, but Jesus Cora they’ll grow into a human, a _baby_ , we made a _baby_ , oh God—” He was shaking, his vision going blurry every couple of second, his heart pounding in his chest. The world was disappearing, turning black except Cora, and his palms were sweating and the room was spinning—

“Stiles, calm down,” Cora said, grabbing both of Stiles’ hands in her own and staring into his eyes. “Focus on me. Breathe, okay? In through your nose. Come on. Breathe in.” He complied, taking a deep breath through his nose and holding it for a second. “And out through your mouth.” He let the breath out slowly, already feeling the panic attack receding. They did that a few more times until he was fine again.

(He tried not to think about the fact that Cora was one of the few people who could talk him down from his panic attacks so quickly, because that just made him think about their relationship and the result of it which was growing in her stomach.)

“Okay?”

Stiles nodded, squeezing her hands. “Okay.”

Cora kissed his forehead and sat back against the bed. They were silent for a few minutes, and for the first time in a long time it was an awkward silence. They were usually so in-tune with each other that silences were just parts of the ongoing conversation that was their eight-month relationship. But now…Stiles was very aware of every breath he took, and every breath Cora took, and the smell of the open paint cans, and the sound of the traffic outside, and the feel of the plastic under his legs.

“Derek’s gonna kill you,” Cora said finally, smiling slightly.

Stiles snorted. “Yeah. And then you.”

“I’m keeping it, Stiles.”

He sighed. “I figured.”

“If you don’t want to, you know, be a dad…that’s fine, you know, if you don’t want to be involved.”

He stared at her, open-mouthed. “God, Cora. Who do you take me for? Mr. McCall? Of course I want that. I want this.” He crawled across the floor and kissed her, straddling her legs and sitting on her lap. “I love you.”

Cora laughed and ran her hands up his chest to his neck. “I love you too. Just…how can you say you want this? We’re barely adults. We haven’t graduated. And it’s going to be a werewolf, you know, because I am.”

“Cora,” Stiles said sternly, leaning in to kiss her nose. “I want it because it’s with you, okay? We’ll figure it out. That whole parenting thing. Being adults. I’ll get a job somewhere, I’ll start saving up. Maybe convince Dad to give up the idea of a spare bedroom. We should buy books, too, those What To Expect books, you know? But it’s probably different for werewolves, I wonder if Deaton has something like that. And we have to pick a whole new set of colors for the nursery, and you still haven’t told me which color you like best in here—”

Cora shut him up with a kiss, her tongue darting out to meet his. Her hands trailed down his back and under the waistband of his boxers, grasping at his ass.

“Ah!” Stiles choked out, breaking the kiss to laugh slightly. “Okay. I can do that.” He stood up, helped her to her feet, and brought her across the hall into the bathroom. Cora shimmied out of her jeans and jumped to sit on the counter, pulling him close and kissing him.

“Don’t need a condom anymore,” she mumbled, hands working at pushing his boxers down and stroking him to full hardness. “Can’t get any more pregnant than I am.”

Stiles moaned, shifting her hips and burying himself inside her in one thrust. He reached out and braced himself on the mirror behind her and started rolling his hips in the way he knew she loved. The way he knew would get her off really quick.

“Oh, fuck, Stiles!” Cora groaned, her hands running through his hair. Keeping his hair long was a good idea, a very fucking good idea. He leaned in to suck at her neck as his hips picked up their pace, but she grabbed the back of his head and pulled him back, looking into his eyes.

“What’s up?” he asked, hips stilling.

“Beige,” she replied breathlessly. “With a green accent wall.”

Stiles grinned, kissed her hard, and started fucking into her faster.

~~~

About a week later, they went to the doctor again, this time together, just to make absolutely sure. Cora had moved in completely and the Sheriff didn’t seem to mind, since she spent so many nights there anyway. The doctor told them that, yes, she was pregnant (eleven weeks), and gave them an estimated due date (in June). They got an ultrasound (which was difficult to make out) and even tried to listen for a heartbeat, but they couldn’t hear one.

“Don’t worry,” the doctor had said. “That’s pretty common. Some women don’t hear it until fourteen weeks, so you’ve got time.”

On the way home, Stiles wouldn’t let go of Cora’s hand. She was resting her head against the window, eyes closed, and he could sense that something was off. She was usually quite talkative in the car.

“Are you okay?” he asked while waiting at a stoplight.

Cora grunted in response and motioned to her throat. “Nausea,” she said quickly, before clenching her mouth shut.

Ah. Okay. Morning sickness. Stiles tried to drive carefully from then on, because he knew what being in a car with nausea was like, and any extra bumps or sudden movements would not be pleasant right now. He kept glancing at her, and when he noticed her fists clench so hard her knuckles went white, he pulled over and stopped the car.

“Gonna just stay here till it goes away,” he said, stroking her hand.

Cora gave him a look of such love and adoration that he forgot all about the baby inside her and the fact that she was nauseous and leaned over to kiss her. But she held a hand up and quickly jumped out of the car, throwing up into the grass. Stiles got out of the car and reached out to touch her but she shook her head.

“What did you eat for lunch?” she asked, wiping her mouth.

Stiles thought back. “Um. Spaghetti.”

“You smell like garlic.”

Oh, crap. He took a couple steps back, staring down at his feet as she threw up again. How could he have been so fucking stupid? She already had an increased sense of smell and the pregnancy just worsened it. And he ate fucking garlic.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said quietly.

Cora looked up at him, her face pale and her eyes sad. “Don’t be, okay, just…I can’t ride in that car with you anymore. Not until you smell better.”

Stiles nodded, pulling out his phone and calling Scott. Someone else had to drive Cora home (because he was NOT forcing her to walk, no way) and his best friend was the one most likely to help. He’d also keep it secret if he figured it out.

“Hey, man,” Scott said when he picked up.

“What did you have for lunch?”

“Um…turkey sandwich. Why?”

Stiles looked up at Cora; she nodded. “I’m on Mulberry Street, across from that comic book store. Can you come here with a car?”

“Stiles, what’s going on?”

“Cora’s sick and I smell bad.” Cora laughed at that but quickly stopped, clenching her fists and jaw. “Baby, don’t laugh, okay? Just…just wait for Scott.”

“I’m on my way. Is everything okay?”

“Just come, Scott.” Stiles hung up, motioning to the car. “Do you want to sit down? I think I have a chair in there, if the smell is too bad.”

“You’re perfect,” Cora said.

He smiled. “I know that but I asked about a chair.”

She laughed but it was interrupted by her throwing up again, and this time it got on her shirt a bit because of how sudden it was. Cursing, Stiles went to the trunk of the Jeep and pulled out his emergency bag, which had a change of clothes for each of them. He grabbed a blouse and walked over to her, holding his breath so she wouldn’t smell the garlic.

“Stiles…” She slid out of her shirt and put on the new one before bursting into tears.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He wanted to hug her, comfort her, make her forget that there was any bad in the world, but he didn’t want to make her sick.

“You’re just…so… _perfect_ ,” she sobbed. She threw the dirty shirt to him but couldn’t seem to stop crying.

“Baby…” Tossing the shirt in the Jeep, Stiles sighed. He hated seeing Cora cry. Hated it. It was worse than seeing Scott cry. And especially now that he couldn’t get close to her, it made him feel so helpless and weak and powerless and useless. If there was one thing he hated, it was being useless.

A car pulled up behind them, and Scott stepped out. “What’s going on?” he asked, moving closer and glancing between Stiles and Cora.

“She’s…really sick. And I had something with garlic and it’s just making it worse. Could you drive her home?”

Scott reached Stiles and frowned slightly. “Yeah, you kind of reek. But…why is she crying?”

Stiles stared at Scott, his mouth open. He didn’t think of an explanation for that. “Um. She’s just. Having one of those days.” He turned to Cora to distract himself. “Do you want to get in Scott’s car, baby?”

Cora nodded and moved towards the beat-up sedan that Scott and his mother still shared. Her tears were slowly subsiding, and she smiled sweetly at Stiles and blew him a kiss. He smiled back and then jerked his head at Scott, raising his eyebrows. She sighed and nodded.

“Dude, what the hell is going on?” Scott asked.

“She’s pregnant.”

Scott’s mouth dropped open; his head whipped back and forth from Stiles to Cora (who was resting against the window of Scott’s car) and back again. Little noises of disbelief kept escaping his mouth, and Stiles rolled his eyes.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Scott said, reaching out and smacking Stiles on the back of the head.

“HEY! That hurt!”

“Yeah, and I’m sure it’s gonna hurt a lot worse when Derek finds out.”

“Which is why you’re gonna wait for me and Cora to tell him, right?” Stiles asked, still rubbing the back of his head. “Look, I told you because you’re my brother and I trust you and if she throws up in your car, I think you have the right to know why. Just…yeah, okay, it was stupid, it was an accident, but we’re trying to make the best of it here.”

“ _Make the best of it_? Stiles, you’re…holy shit. Jesus Christ, dude.”

“I know, Scott, I know. Just. Don’t tell, okay? Not even your mom. We’re dealing with it. We just got back from the doctor’s.”

Scott sighed and nodded. “Okay. Promise me you’ll tell Derek and your dad soon, though, okay?”

“I promise. Just get her to my house, I need to stop somewhere and get breath mints.”

~~~

They quickly figured out that Cora’s morning sickness was only triggered by traditionally smelly foods, garlic and fish in particular. So Stiles stopped eating them. Every time Stiles showed any special care towards Cora, like holding the door for her or popping breath mints, she’d burst into tears. All the damn hormones made her so emotional. She cried at Folgers commercials now. And _Glee_. And every time Stiles said “I love you.”

A few days after the Scott incident, they were in their room discussing when they should tell the Sheriff and Derek. She was nearing thirteen weeks pregnant, in her second trimester, but Christmas was coming up soon and they weren’t sure if they wanted to drop that bombshell.

“Stiles?”

Stiles jumped slightly, whipping around to look at the door; his dad was standing there, a bemused expression on his face.

“Yo, Dad,” he said, trying to feign calmness. “What’s up?”

“What do you kids want for dinner? Because if you’ve got no opinion, I’m making salmon.”

“Not fish!” he said, a little too loudly. The Sheriff frowned.

“But you love salmon. And I thought Cora did too.”

“Uh…” Stiles glanced at Cora, who shrugged and waved her hand in a nonchalant gesture. “Well, Dad, there’s a conversation we need to have.”

“Stiles, dammit, I think it’s pretty clear that you’re not gay.”

Cora snorted; Stiles stood up and started pacing. “Not that conversation. A different conversation. You should…come in and sit. Yeah, sit down, Dad, make yourself comfortable.”

The Sheriff moved to the computer chair and sat, mumbling something unintelligible.

“Okay, so…okay.” Stiles was still pacing, his hands fidgeting, making fists and then flattening out. “So Cora moved in. I’m sure you noticed that. Um. But she was here a lot before, you know, like spending the night and stuff. And just hanging out. Being my awesome girlfriend. That kind of thing.”

“Stiles, will you get to the point? I need to make dinner.”

“See, there was this…shower. We had a shower, Cora and I, we took a shower together. And uh…you know. Stuff happened in the shower. Sexy stuff.” He felt heat rise in his face because he really didn’t want to talk about that with his dad but he was delaying the inevitable. But the Sheriff’s face changed slightly, his brow furrowing.

“Choose your next words carefully, son,” he said, standing up from the chair and folding his arms.

“Dad…” Stiles looked up at him, trying to invoke that childish look that allowed him to get away with a lot of shit in his day. “Look, we didn’t plan this, okay, it was an accident, just…a freak of nature accident and it wasn’t intentional and please don’t kill me.”

The Sheriff’s nostrils flared; he pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a shaky breath. “God dammit, Stiles.”

“I’m sorry, Dad, I really am. But we’ve…me and Cora, we’ve talked about it, we’ve talked about what’s gonna happen and all that, and we’re gonna do it.”

“Stop right there.” Stiles clamped his mouth shut, seeing nothing but his father, like tunnel vision but without the accompanying panic attack. “You think you can just have sex in my house, get a girl pregnant in my house, and then ask said girl to move in _before_ you tell me? You think you can get away with unprotected sex like this? It’s not easy, being a parent, it’s not something you just decide to do because, oops, condom’s too difficult to use!”

“That’s not what happened!” Stiles glanced at Cora, making sure she was okay; she looked uncomfortable but not physically, so he soldiered on. “We just…it was one time, we figured one time couldn’t be that big of a deal. We were stupid, okay, really, incredibly stupid. But we’ve gone to the doctor, she’s not due till June so it’ll hopefully be after we graduate, and I’m going to find a job, and we’ll paint the guest bedroom and make that a nursery, I’ll pay for everything myself, I swear I will. Just…I love her, Dad.”

The Sheriff let out another breath, scrutinizing Stiles with his usual frown. (Stiles called it the Dad Frown.) Then he looked over at Cora, who tried to put on an innocent face but it was difficult because Stiles had said the L word and she was on the verge of tears.

“On Saturday,” the Sheriff finally said, turning his eyes back to Stiles, “you go to every business in town and you do not come back until you have a job. Am I clear?” Stiles nodded fervently. “And you tell Derek. As soon as you can.”

“We will, Dad, I promise.” He smiled tightly and didn’t stop smiling until the Sheriff was out of sight (he’d left the room mumbling something yet again). Then he turned to Cora and sighed happily. “That wasn’t so bad.” But Cora was crying pretty heavily. “Hey, what’s going on, what happened? What did I say?”

Cora shook her head. “Your dad…he…said…” It was hard to talk (and understand her) through her tears so she pulled out her phone and typed something, putting it on the bed for Stiles to pick up and read: “Your dad just said ‘Claudia, what do I do with your son?’”

Stiles was still for a second before throwing the phone on the bed and dropping to his knees. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes, and his chest felt like a hole was being ripped through it. Cora knelt next to him and put her arms around him, hugging him tightly. It was like her arms were the only thing in the world. Like they were literally holding him together as a sob was finally torn from his lips and he broke down, crying into her shoulder. They sat together, both crying, for at least five minutes, before Stiles managed to get control of himself.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, pulling back and wiping his face.

“For what?” Cora asked, grabbing the tissues from the nightstand.

“Doing this to you. Ruining your life.”

She kissed him, stroking his face. “Don’t. Don’t ever apologize. It was my idea to not use a condom and this is…it’s both of us, you know, both your fault and mine. And you have not ruined my life, okay? You make it so much better. God, Stiles, I—” She froze, lowering her eyes slowly to her stomach.

“What is it, what’s wrong?” Stiles put his hand on her stomach, as if that would do anything, as if he could feel what was going on inside of her.

“I heard a heartbeat.”

Stiles felt his own heart soar, tears spilling from his eyes again, but good tears, happy tears. He kissed her, pushing her lightly onto her back and straddling her. “I love you,” he said, nipping at her neck and moving her shirt aside to suck at her collarbone. “I love you, I love you, I fucking love you so much.”

Cora laughed. “Shut up and take off your pants.”

~~~

After dinner, the Sheriff pulled Stiles into the study while Cora went to the bedroom.

“What’s up?” Stiles asked, trying to be nonchalant because he knew what this was going to be about.

“What’s up? Really, Stiles?” He sighed and sat down at the desk. “Sit, we’ve got to have a talk.” Stiles nodded and brought an extra chair in front of the desk. “Okay. I’ve had time to think about this and I’m still angry but you seem to have your head on straight. This doesn’t mean I approve of what you did, not in the slightest, because at least when Claudia and I…” He sighed. “When we accidentally got pregnant, it was after our wedding.”

“You…wait, what?” Stiles sat up straight, frowning. “I was an accident?”

The Sheriff raised his eyebrows. “Kind of. I mean, we were married and both wanted kids but yeah, you were a surprise. And let me tell you, kid, I was not ready to be a father. I’d read all the books and taken classes with her and had long talks with my own dad, but I was not ready. There’s no way to be ready, not with your first. So I want you to get it out of your head that you know what’s going to happen. I want you to stop thinking that you’ve got it all planned out just because you think it’s some John Hughes film.”

“Dad, I don’t—”

“Shut up. I’m trying to impart fatherly advice, okay? So listen.” Stiles nodded and leaned back in the chair. “You have no idea what you’re getting into, and by the time you figure it out, they’re in high school already.” The Sheriff fixed him with a stern glare. “But you’re in it for the count now, you know that, right? You told her you’d stay and you better follow through with that or I will not arrest her for killing you.”

“I’m not gonna leave her, Dad,” Stiles said, scooting forward on the chair. “I swear. She’s…she’s the one.”

“Oh, Christ,” the Sheriff said, pinching the bridge of his nose again. “If you ask me for your mom’s ring, I’m going to reach across this desk and slap you.”

Stiles bit his lip and slouched in the chair. Yeah, he wanted Mom’s ring. She’d been buried with her wedding ring, but the engagement ring was still hanging out above-ground because the Sheriff wanted Stiles to use it. (Stiles wanted to use it, too.) He’d been thinking about it for a while, before he found out that Cora was pregnant, and this just seemed like a catalyst.

“Look, Dad, I just…I love her and I want to be with her forever.”

“Forever is a shorter time than you think.” He fiddled with his wedding ring, and Stiles immediately regretted bringing it up. Of course it probably hurt his dad to see him walking in his footsteps. It probably hurt to even mention his mom’s ring. “One thing at a time, okay? Have the kid and we’ll go from there. You can still stay here, both of you and the baby, once it’s here. Just get a job, start saving for everything, and tell her brother.”

Stiles gulped. He really, _really_ did not want to tell Derek. At all. He knew he had to, and he wasn’t about to send Cora to do it alone, but just the thought of Derek’s reaction…the thought of telling him what he’d done…he shivered visibly at the thought.

“Yeah, I get that,” the Sheriff said, laughing. “I do not envy you for that conversation. Get out, I have work to do.”

~~~

On Sunday, Stiles and Cora went to Derek’s loft. (Stiles had managed to get a job at the mall; it paid pretty well for part-time and was flexible around his school schedule. Plus, the store had a section for baby stuff, and he’d get a discount when the time came. Always thinking ahead.) They were both nervous as hell, Cora not saying a word on the ride over and Stiles jumping at every loud noise. Telling the Sheriff had been one thing; even though he carried a lethal weapon, he was usually much calmer and had proven that. Derek, on the other hand…

“Hey, guys,” Derek said when they entered the loft. “I was just about to start lunch, do you want to join?”

Stiles glanced at Cora, who shrugged. “What’s for lunch?”

“Meatloaf. My mom’s recipe.” Derek frowned. “Is everything okay? You two seem nervous. More nervous than usual.”

It had taken Derek a long time (about two months) to get used to their relationship. It was partly being overprotective and partly just disbelief. Stiles would just as soon have ignored it, but Cora was upset by it because the approval of her brother meant a lot to her, so Stiles finally confronted him and things were settled. But they both knew that one misstep would make everything blow up in their faces.

“Derek, we need to tell you something,” Cora said, grabbing Stiles’ hand and entwining their fingers. He squeezed to show that he was there for her. “Something…big.”

Derek nodded and took a couple steps closer; about five steps away, he froze, staring at Cora’s stomach. Oh, shit, right. If Cora could hear the heartbeat, Derek could too. His eyebrows shot up his forehead and his eyes flashed blue as he turned to stare at Stiles.

“I’m going to kill you,” he growled, hands balled into fists.

“Derek, please, just listen, okay?” Cora’s voice was shaking, and she looked on the verge of tears, but Stiles didn’t want to take his eyes off the volatile werewolf in the room for too long.

“Listen to what? Your sob story about how, oh, the condom broke, or oh, he decided not to use one—”

“It was her idea, actually,” Stiles said quietly, biting his lip right after.

“Fuck you, Stilinski, you don’t get to blame this on her!”

“No, Derek, it really was my idea! I thought…you know, one time couldn’t be that bad. I didn’t realize…”

Derek stared at her, a strange look crossing his face. “You…Christ, Cora! I thought we raised you better than that!”

“You didn’t raise me at all, you left when I was eleven—”

“I thought you were dead! And besides, Mom raised you for that long, I know she gave you that talk when you first had sex ed!”

Stiles took a couple steps away because, hello, two werewolves who are emotionally unstable are pretty dangerous. He didn’t want to get involved in Hale family politics (although, if he was going to marry her, he’d have to eventually). It was hard to listen because they spoke so fast and he didn’t have the advantage of werewolf hearing, but every once in a while he’d catch a word like “Mom” or “respect.” He didn’t want to fill in the gaps. But then…

“It’s a good fucking thing Mom’s dead because I would hate for her to see you disgrace yourself like this!” Derek shouted, his eyes blue and claws extended.

Stiles stepped forward and punched him squarely in the jaw. It probably surprised Derek more than hurt him, because he was a werewolf and Stiles was human, but it definitely had the desired effect; Derek immediately stopped shouting and focused on Stiles, a look of irritation on his face.

“Don’t talk to her like that, okay?” Stiles said, trying to sound intimidating while nursing his hand. “Don’t ever talk to her like that.”

“She’s my sister, Stiles.”

“And she’s my girlfriend. Look, I get that this is big and scary and unexpected, okay, believe me, I understand that. It was an accident, it just happened, and we’re trying to make the best of it. We’re keeping the kid, Derek.”

The werewolf sighed, running a hand through his hair as he turned away. He paced for a few minutes in silence, Stiles and Cora both exchanging worried looks.

“I don’t want to see you around here,” Derek said finally, looking up at them. “Either of you. Not until I get used to this. And you,” he growled, staring at Stiles, “if you do anything, anything that hurts her, I will rip your skin off. With my teeth. Starting with the skin of your dick.”

“Didn’t realize you wanted your mouth that close to my dick,” Stiles said, smiling, hoping to lighten the mood. Cora elbowed him in the side as Derek’s eyebrows shot up his forehead again. “Okay, okay, bad joke. Sorry.”

“Get out.”

Cora nodded and pulled Stiles to the elevator. He watched as Derek slammed the loft door, an odd look on his face. “Are you okay?” he asked, pulling Cora close and kissing her nose.

She shrugged, nuzzling into his neck. She didn’t say anything else; she didn’t have to. Stiles understood.

“He’ll come around,” he mumbled. The elevator reached the ground floor and he led her to the Jeep. She refused to get in, hugging tightly to him instead. “Hey, come on. It’s gonna be okay.”

“My _brother_ , Stiles,” she said, starting to cry. “My brother, my big brother, how can he do this to me?”

He held her close, stroking her hair and trying to think of something to say. He didn’t have a brother, not really, even though Scott was basically his brother. How would he feel if those words, “I don’t want to see you,” had been said by Scott? It would tear him apart, to be honest. Just like it seemed to be tearing Cora apart.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said, pulling back to wipe her face and smile slightly. “But we can do this, okay? You and me. We don’t need any dumb sour wolves, anyway. I’m gonna take care of you.”

Cora nodded, kissed him, and climbed in the Jeep. Stiles sighed, glaring up at Derek’s window before getting in the driver’s seat and driving home.

~~~

Stiles woke up in the middle of the night to someone nudging him and whispering his name. He groaned and turned over, seeing Cora’s tear-streaked face by the light of the street lamps outside.

“Shit, Cora, what’s wrong?” he said, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and sitting up. She just shook her head and collapsed against his chest, sobbing. “Shh, shh, it’s okay, baby. I’m right here.” His arms wrapped protectively around her shaking body, trying (probably in vain) to protect her from whatever was making her cry like this. Probably Derek, that asshole, Stiles was tempted to get out of bed and go to his loft and beat him within an inch of his life, but Cora wouldn’t like that.

“I miss my mom,” she said quietly into his shirt, clutching at him harder.

Stiles’ heart dropped. “Yeah. Me too.”

~~~

The next day, a Monday (God, Stiles hated Mondays), he drove Cora to school but didn’t go in himself. He had something to do today.

After coaxing Cora back to sleep last night, Stiles formulated a plan. He would ambush Derek and force him to at least keep contact with Cora. Derek probably wouldn’t expect him right now, so he had a tactical advantage. But he wasn’t bringing wolfsbane or mistletoe or anything, because he wanted this to be a verbal attack, not a physical one. Derek had saved their asses so many times, and if Cora found out that Stiles had hurt Derek, she might not forgive him.

He parked in front of Derek’s building, pressing the button for the elevators angrily, knowing it wouldn’t matter if he approached quietly because Derek would be able to hear him anyway. Once upstairs, he pounded on the loft door.

“Derek! Open up!”

The door slid open, and Derek stood there with a bemused expression on his face. “I was wondering when you’d show up. Honestly, I was starting to think you weren’t going to skip school.”

Stiles grumbled and pushed past him into the loft. So much had happened here, everything from making a break-into-a-bank plan to Boyd’s death. He could honestly feel the weight of everything, he could see Boyd’s body and the plans of the bank, and he wondered how Derek stayed sane.

“What do you want, Stiles?”

“I want you to stay in touch with Cora.”

“I told you yesterday, that’s not going to happen.”

“I don’t care.” Stiles stood to his full height (which wasn’t that impressive, since Derek was the same height as him) and folded his arms. “You can cut me out all you like but not her. She’s your sister. I mean, do you really have family to spare?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “You’re not gonna break me that fast. I just need time to think about it and get used to it, okay? You just…sprung it on me. Just waltzed in here and…she’s seventeen, Stiles!”

“I’m seventeen! Did you really think I was the more emotionally mature one in that relationship?”

The wolf opened his mouth then shook his head and sighed. “No, not really. Look, just give me time, okay? I just found out my baby sister was knocked up by some…some _human_ , I think I’m allowed to have processing time.”

“Some human?” Stiles repeated incredulously. “Are you kidding me? After everything I’ve done for you and your pack, after all the missions I helped with and all the information I gave you, I’m just some human to you?”

“No, Stiles, that isn’t…I didn’t mean it like that, obviously you’re not just some human, you’re pack, but you’re still human and you’re still seventeen and you still _knocked up my baby sister_.”

Stiles nodded. “Perfectly good points. But you still don’t get to brush me off like that, okay? I made a mistake, we both did, and we’re both paying for it. And she needs you, Derek. You more than anyone besides me.”

“Dammit, Stiles…” Derek sighed, sitting on the couch and rubbing his face. “I need to deal with this, okay, I need to mull it over and think. Why can’t I have that?”

“Because she woke me up in the middle of the night crying because she missed your mom, Derek. And you brought up your mom, like, ten times yesterday. And because you’re her _brother_ and she needs you. Because your family is dead. Because she’s seventeen and pregnant and scared and feels alone. Do I need to go on?”

“She’s not the only one who misses our mom.”

“Fuck!” Stiles shouted, kicking a chair so hard it moved at least a foot. Derek jumped, frowning up at him. “You were the one who kept using your mom as an argument, you were the one who even brought her up! So you don’t get to use that excuse, okay, because you’re talking to someone who also has a dead mother, and I know how bullshit it is to do what you just did.”

Derek sighed, standing up and taking a step closer to Stiles, who flinched. “I’m not going to punch you, Stiles. I thought you trusted me?”

“I did. Until I told you that I impregnated your sister. Now all bets are off.”

Derek chuckled slightly. “Fair point. I’m not…okay, I am mad, but I’m more surprised, okay? I’m surprised and I need time to deal with this.”

“Well, you have…about six months.” Stiles’ phone rang in his pocket, and he pulled it out. It was Cora. “Hey, is everything okay?” he said when he picked up, trying to wave Derek off.

“Can you come pick me up? I’m not feeling good.” Her voice did sound really weak.

“Are they serving fish or something?”

“No.” She was breathing heavily, and sounded like she was in a big empty room. “I just don’t feel good. Can you come take me home?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be right there, baby.” Stiles hung up. Derek was right in front of him, mere inches away. “Jesus, Derek, chill out! I’m going to get her.”

“I’m going with you,” Derek said, turning around to grab his jacket.

“Derek, no, I can drive her to the hospital, okay?”

“ _Hospital_?” Derek’s voice went up an octave, his eyes bugging out.

“Yeah, my pregnant girlfriend feels sick enough to call me, I’m taking her to the hospital.”

“Then I’m still going with you. Hurry up.”

Stiles sighed and lead Derek down the stairs (because the elevator was too slow), piling in his Jeep and driving just a bit too fast. He didn’t care if he’d get pulled over. He’d just drive past the cops. Honestly. And the Sheriff would probably back him up. If Cora was just sick from morning sickness, she wouldn’t have called him. Something was seriously wrong.

“If she’s hurt,” Derek said, his hands fidgeting around. He couldn’t seem to sit still, twisting around and shifting his position and tapping on the dashboard. “If she’s hurt, I swear to god, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Calm down, Derek, I’m sure she’s fine, this is just being careful.” But that was a lie. He would take her to the hospital if she fell down a single stair. But this…this was bad, yeah, Cora was tough and wouldn’t call him for just anything.

When they got to the school, Derek barely waited for the car to stop before he jumped out. Stiles grumbled and followed him after parking, straight to the nurse’s office. Cora was laying on one of the beds, eyes closed.

“Cora!” Stiles rushed to her side, holding her hand and stroking her hair. “Are you okay?”

“She was feeling dizzy and lightheaded,” the nurse said from her office, glancing at Derek nervously. “And she told me about her condition so I suggested she call you. I’m sorry, who are you? You’re too old to be on school grounds.”

“It’s her brother,” Stiles said when Derek didn’t respond. He was staring at Cora with a heartbroken expression on his face. “Can we take her home? Or, you know, the hospital?”

The nurse smiled. “I don’t think she needs the hospital. Just keep her hydrated and rested and don’t stress her out. Yeah, you can take her home, just…I think you might have to sign her out,” she said to Derek. “Seeing as you’re an adult. Are you her legal guardian?”

Derek nodded, following her to her office. Stiles focused back on Cora, who was looking up at him with a sad smile.

“Are you okay?” he asked, kissing her forehead.

“I just…almost fainted in history. Decided to come here. Can I sleep when we get home?”

“Yeah, yes, of course you can, baby, of course you can. Jesus. You need to be careful, okay? Drink water and all that. I can’t lose you.”

Derek emerged from the nurse’s office, nodding. Stiles helped Cora to her feet, an arm around her waist as he led her to the Jeep. He pointed to the backseat and Derek climbed in without a word. It wasn’t until they pulled into Stiles’ driveway that he finally said something.

“I’m sorry, Cora.”

They were all silent, just sitting in the car. Cora turned in her seat and reached out to touch Derek’s cheek. “I know you are. Just…I need to rest, okay? Will you stay here?”

Derek nodded, waiting in the car while Stiles led Cora up to their bedroom. He came back to the driveway and got into the car, frowning.

“You can get out of the car, you know,” he said.

“I know. I just don’t deserve it.”

“Get out of the car.”

“Just take me back to the loft.”

“Derek, dammit, get out of the car!” Stiles reached back and tried to pull him into the front seat. There was a lot of scrabbling, some elbows in sides, and Stiles hit his head on the steering wheel before Derek was finally in the front seat, one leg over the back of the seat, his head on the dashboard.

“You know what, yeah, this is more comfortable,” he said sarcastically, moving his feet around and nearly kicking Stiles in the face. “What the hell was that?”

“You told her you’d stay here and you’re going to stay here, dammit!”

Derek sighed and got out of the car; Stiles followed. “Stiles, I’m a terrible brother. I abandoned her when she needed me.”

“And you want to abandon her again? Asshole!” Stiles pushed him. “Get in the goddamn house!”

Derek glared at him but huffed and turned to the front door. Stiles followed him into the house and up the stairs. The wolf hesitated outside the bedroom door.

“Yeah, no, you should hang out somewhere else,” Stiles said, nodding to the guest room. “We’ll shout if we need anything.”

Derek went down the hall and Stiles went into the bedroom. Cora was laying on the bed, all the lights off and the shades drawn. When he closed the door, she smiled but didn’t open her eyes.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Shh, don’t say anything, don’t…just lie there, okay?” He sat next to her, kissing her forehead and stroking her hair. “Do you need anything? Water, a snack, anything?”

She reached up and put a hand over his mouth. “I just want to rest, okay? You can rest with me if you want, or you can go argue with Derek some more. I just need to sleep.”

Stiles nodded, kissing her again and leaving the room. He went downstairs and grabbed two beers, even though Derek couldn’t get drunk, because it was the spirit of the thing that mattered. Derek frowned at him from his perch on the guest bed when Stiles offered the beer.

“Stiles, I can’t—”  
“Take the damn beer, Derek.”

He huffed and took it, popping off the cap. Stiles sat next to him, opening his own beer and taking a few sips. They sat in silence, both drinking but only one getting drunk.

“I always thought I would be the Hale kid to do this,” Derek said when Stiles finished his beer. “Given my track record. Laura was the good kid, you know, the star child. And Cora was always just the baby.” He looked up at Stiles, a strange expression on his face. “Did I ever tell you about a girl called Paige?”

Stiles flushed. “No but Peter did.”

The wolf scowled. “Asshole. Well she was…and then Kate…I mean, the last conversation I ever had with my mom was about Kate, and how I wanted to invite her over and tell her about me.” He sighed, downing the rest of his beer. “So yeah, I thought I was gonna be the one to knock someone up, I never thought Cora would get knocked up…and the worst part is that my mom wouldn’t have been as angry as I said, she would’ve done that ‘I’m disappointed’ thing but she wouldn’t have been angry, and surely Cora’s got to know that.”

“She was eleven,” Stiles said, feeling the beer start to take hold. “Can’t honestly expect her to remember much, especially after surviving a fire.”

“Good point, I guess. I just. I want to help her and I want…I don’t want her to suffer anymore, you know?”

“Hell yeah, are you kidding? I don’t want her to be in any kind of pain. But she’s pregnant, she’s bound to feel pain. Just have to minimize it.”

“How did this even…” Derek sighed, looking up at Stiles. “Was it really her idea?”

Stiles flushed and nodded, breaking eye contact. “We were in the shower and she said that one time without a condom wouldn’t be a big deal. But…it was. So.”

Derek opened his mouth but froze, horror settling into his face. “Cora,” he said, jumping off the bed and running down the hall. Stiles followed, the alcohol trying to take hold but pushed out by adrenaline. She was laying on the bed, pale and shaking slightly. Derek froze by the door but Stiles grabbed his phone and called his father.

“Stiles, you are supposed to be—”

“Cora’s sick, something’s wrong, what do I do?” His voice cracked, tears sprang to his eyes, because he was helpless again, watching someone he loved waste away, his mom had been pale like that too, in those last hours, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it—

“What the fuck are you doing, call an ambulance you idiot!” the Sheriff shouted, hanging up.

Right, right, an ambulance. Stiles could feel a panic attack trying to take over, he could see the world slowly going black, but he pushed past it, he had to focus on getting Cora to the hospital and if he had a panic attack that would leave Derek, who was rooted to the spot like a fucking idiot. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“You, take her downstairs near the door, keep her on her side and don’t move too fast or hit her on anything.” Derek nodded and sprang into action, freaking finally. Stiles dialed 911 and immediately recited his address, which he’d learned from his father. It was only after he did this that he realized he knew all the dispatchers and they all knew where he lived.

“Stiles, what are you doing?” the dispatcher said, just as he assumed. “This is not the way to call your dad.”

“My girlfriend is…she’s pregnant and pale and shaking and…send an ambulance, okay, just send an ambulance, please.”

“Okay, calm down and repeat. What’s going on? I’m sending an ambulance, I just need you to talk me through it.”

Stiles took a deep breath again, fighting off the impending panic attack. “My girlfriend is fourteen weeks pregnant and she’s been feeling faint and she was really pale and shaking, and my dad told me to call you.”

“Okay. Are you with her? I’ve talked to the EMTs, they’re on their way. Are you with her?”

Stiles nearly ran down the stairs to the living room, where Cora was resting on a couch. “Yeah, yeah, I am. And her brother’s here.”

The dispatcher said something else but it was muffled, like it wasn’t directed at him. Probably the EMTs. “Okay,” he said, louder this time. “I’m going to ask you to keep her on her side and make sure there’s nothing in her mouth.”

Derek immediately followed the instructions. Right, werewolf hearing. Good.

“Done,” Stiles said. “What else?”

“Just hang in there, okay, the EMTs are nearly there. Do you want to stay on the line until they get there?”

“How do I stop myself from having a panic attack?”

The room (and the dispatcher) went silent. Derek stared at him, frowning. The black tunnel was creeping in, his chest was tightening, his hands were shaking.

“Your girlfriend needs you, Stiles,” the dispatcher said. “That’s how you can stop it.”

He took a deep breath, looked at Cora, just stared at her, stared and tried to imagine that she was telling him to calm down, that she was telling him to breathe, and surprisingly, miraculously, it worked.

“Okay now?” the dispatcher asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. And I hear the ambulance. Thank you so much. I’m gonna hang up now.”

“Okay. Good luck, kiddo.”

~~~

Cora was anemic. She just had low iron in her system that was exacerbated by the pregnancy. The doctor said it was nothing to worry about but they were keeping her overnight just to make sure.

Stiles was alone outside her room about an hour after they got there. Derek went to get coffee but was taking so long that Stiles was starting to think he’d gone back to the loft to wallow in self-pity. But he was too nervous to move, so he sat there, knees pulled up to his chest, waiting. For what, he wasn’t sure.

“Stiles!”

He looked up and saw his father moving down the hall towards him. This was good. It made him feel a lot better that his father was here. He wasn’t alone.

“What’s going on, buddy?” the Sheriff asked, sitting next to Stiles and putting an arm around his shoulders.

“She’s anemic,” Stiles replied monotonously. “I haven’t been feeding her well enough, she’s got an iron deficiency, I know this is my fault, I thought it was okay cuz we weren’t eating fish but she was missing something—”

“Stiles, stop that. Right now.” The Sheriff sighed. “This isn’t your fault. It’s just a thing that happens, okay? Apparently even werewolves aren’t immune to it. It’s just a thing and there will be another thing tomorrow. She’s going to be okay, I promise.”

“But what if she isn’t? What if something goes wrong, Dad? I can’t lose her, I can’t watch her waste away…”

The Sheriff pulled something out of his pocket and held it in front of Stiles. “I can see that you love her. I’m going to give you this. It’s your mom’s ring.”

Stiles whipped his head up, staring. “Dad…”

“I know, I said I wouldn’t, but you love her and you care about her and that’s so painfully obvious that I’d be an idiot to ignore it. Have the ring. She will be okay and she will have this baby and it will be healthy and then you two can get married and have a happy life.”

“But—”

“Stiles Stilinski, don’t give me any of that. No ‘buts.’ No ‘what ifs.’ Take the ring and marry the girl.”

Stiles stared at the box that held his mother’s engagement ring, the one he’d been pining after for years, and then he smiled and took it. Yeah, he could do this. He knew the issues his dad had with giving him this ring and knowing that his dad believed in him this much…it definitely helped.

~~~

But a month later, Stiles still hadn’t proposed. He couldn’t find the right time or the right words. He kept the ring in his pocket (the little pocket inside a pocket that jeans had for some reason) at all times, but wasn’t sure when to use it.

Cora was now eighteen weeks pregnant and healthy as ever. They changed her diet and there was no more weakness or dizziness. She could feel the baby moving sometimes, but try as he might, Stiles could never put his hand over her stomach in time. Which sucked, because they weren’t scheduled for an ultrasound for another week or so and he hated being the only person who couldn’t naturally hear or feel his baby.

His baby. God, that was a weird thing to say. His baby. His child. _His child_. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around that.

“Stiles, come here!” Cora said from the bathroom.

Fearing the worst, Stiles jumped out of his chair and nearly impaled himself on his doorknob as he rushed across the hall. “What’s up, what’s wrong, what’s happening?” he spluttered, bursting into the bathroom.

Cora was standing in front of the mirror in a bra and panties. Oh. Um. Stiles couldn’t figure out what emergency this was.

“Nothing’s wrong, doofus,” she said, pulling him away from the door and closing it. “I’m showing.”

“Showing what?”

Cora laughed, turning and pointing at the mirror. Her hand slid over her stomach which…

“Holy God,” Stiles mumbled. A bump. There was a bump. There was a definite bump that he could see with his eyes. His baby’s bump. He knelt in front of her and put his hands over it, feeling the texture and trying to take in everything because this moment…he’d been at the ultrasounds and heard the heartbeat but this was the first time he’d really seen his baby. He leaned in and kissed just above her belly button, then pressed his forehead to her stomach.

“You okay down there?” she asked jokingly.

“You,” he said, kissing her stomach again, “are the most perfect woman in all of creation.”

Cora laughed, putting her hand on his head. “Okay, buddy. I thought I was supposed to be the emotional one.”

“Marry me.”

She stared down at him as he pulled out the ring and held it up. He was already kneeling and he’d never felt more love for her than he did right then.

“Stiles, we’re…we’re kids, we can’t get married.”

He chuckled, standing up and pulling her close, kissing her. “We’re having a kid, Cora. And I don’t mean right away, obviously, just…I love you more than anything and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

She nuzzled into his neck, and he felt tears fall onto his skin. He wrapped his arms around her protectively and hugged her tightly, never wanting to let go.

“Yes,” she said finally, pulling back and smiling up at him, her eyes red and puffy from crying. “Yes, of course.”

Stiles grinned and grabbed her hand to put the ring on. It wouldn’t fit.

“What…your hands, they’re small enough…” He tried to force it but she pulled her hand back.

“I’m swollen, Stiles. Pregnancy makes me swell up. Why do you think I only wear slip-on shoes?”

Stiles looked at her feet and then back at her face. “So you can’t wear my ring?”

Cora laughed, kissing his nose. “No need to look like a kicked puppy. I will once I have the baby.”

Stiles sighed. “Okay. I just wanted you to wear it now.”

“Tough. Your sperm did this to me.”

“Hm.” He picked her up and put her on the counter, leaning down to suck her neck. “Maybe if I give you some more, it’ll fix the problem.”

“God, Stiles,” Cora laughed, running her fingers through his hair. “I don’t think so. But we could always test it out.”

“I’m always happy to give some sperm for science,” he said, grinning as he kicked off his pants and pushed her panties aside. He pressed inside her slowly, keeping his eyes on her face.

“Are you always this horny?” she gasped, wrapping her legs around his hips.

“Only for you, baby.”

~~~

Two weeks later, there was a definite baby bump. So big that Stiles had to buy her maternity pants. Jeans with elastic in the front. Jesus. The doctor said she shouldn’t sleep or rest on her back anymore, because the baby was getting big enough to block blood vessels or something. Stiles wasn’t entirely sure of the details.

They started telling their friends and pack. Isaac and Allison already knew (damn Scott), and everyone else took it pretty well. Mrs. McCall offered her help pro bono, which was nice because Stiles’ minimum-wage part-time job wasn’t going to be enough for this whole process.

Although the doctors could probably tell the sex now or soon, Stiles and Cora agreed they wanted that to be a surprise. But they did start discussing names.

“Claudia.”

“Are you kidding me, Stiles? I know the significance but I’m not naming my kid Claudia.”

“Cora! That’s not fair! You expect me to name it Talia, why is Claudia so bad?”

Cora sighed, rubbing her face. “Because while Talia is an odd name, it isn’t a name from the 70’s.”

“Talia Claudia, then?”

“The endings are too similar.”

Stiles huffed, sitting on the bed. “Well why don’t we talk about boy’s names, then? My real name is off-limits.”

“Good, it’s a terrible name.”

He looked at her, frowning angrily. “Well why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”

“How about…Anthony? It’s a family name.”

“Anthony Stilinski?”

“Hale-Stilinski.”

He let out a noise of frustration, falling back on the bed and covering his face. “Why can’t we agree on _one simple thing_? We’re going to get married, you’re going to change your name—”

“No, I’m not,” she replied, her voice full of venom. “Screw you, Stiles, women don’t have to take their husband’s name.”

“I wasn’t implying…you just never _said_ that before! I can’t read your mind!” Stiles got off the bed and started pacing. “Okay. I like Anthony. Anthony John, maybe? After my dad.”

“Sure, I can live with that.”

He sighed and pulled her up from the chair, kissing her. She didn’t seem to be kissing him back but maybe that was just his imagination. “See? We agreed on something.”

“I’m not in the mood, Stiles,” Cora said, pushing away from him.

“I wasn’t asking for sex.”

“Yes you were, don’t bullshit me. I’m not in the mood.”

“Okay. Sorry.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Could we consider a girl’s name that isn’t honoring one of our mothers? Because we’re just going to keep arguing and it’ll hurt too much to choose just one.”

“We’ll see.”

Stiles quickly learned that “We’ll see” was pregnant-Cora code for “You’re not winning this argument.”

~~~

When their final semester at school was under way, the administration let Cora take all online classes, so that she wouldn’t have to deal with going to school and the hormones and the small desks. Stiles was okay with that, but there were certain parts of this pregnancy thing that he wasn’t used to.

Like the lack of sex drive.

He’d read the books and the online articles and all those parenting websites, he knew that there was a chance that she wouldn’t want sex anymore, but in reality it was _so much harder to deal with_. That and the constant fights about the baby names…not to mention the damn snoring. Even though she was laying on her side, she snored like an old man.

He came home from school one day, dead tired from lacrosse and really horny for no reason. Cora was at his desk, on her computer, probably doing homework. From the back, he could hardly tell that she was in her third trimester. Smiling, he stood behind her and rubbed her shoulders a bit.

Cora hummed. “That feels good, baby, thank you.”

“You should take a break,” he said, leaning down and sucking on her neck.

She sighed. “Dammit, Stiles, I’m not in the mood.”

Stiles huffed and pulled back. “Well I am.”

She turned and stood up, one hand on her belly while she steadied herself. (She was getting quite big. Being so short meant the baby had nowhere else to go but out.) “So you were just rubbing my shoulders to get into my maternity pants?”

“Jesus, no, I just thought…” But he couldn’t think of an answer that wouldn’t condemn him to the guest bedroom for the night.

“What, Stiles? What did you think? You’d do something nice for me and I’d spread them open like I used to?”

“No! It’s just…” He ran a hand through his hair. “We haven’t had sex in over two months, Cora! What the fuck am I supposed to do!”

She grabbed his hand, and he thought maybe she was going to agree and just have sex with him, but then she formed his hand into a circle and smiled. “There you go,” she said. “Oh, I guess that’s giving you too much credit…” She made the circle smaller by pushing his hand together until he could barely see through the hole in the middle. “That’ll do.”

Stiles tore his hand from her grip. “Fuck you!” he spat, storming out of the room. He got in the Jeep and drove to Scott’s, only to find that Scott and Isaac were off doing something. But Mrs. McCall invited him in anyway and sat him down in the living room.

“What’s going on, sweetie?” she asked.

“Nothing. Just.” He sighed, leaning back on the couch and rubbing his face. “We just keep fighting all the time, that’s all. It’s frustrating.”

“Hormones make you crazy,” she said, laughing. “What do you fight about?”

“Baby names. Sex. Whether or not I made the bed. Everything.”

“Listen, kid. I know you don’t want to, but you’re gonna have to do everything she asks.”

“That’s not fair!”

“So? Who said life was fair? You made her like this, you made her swell up and have morning sickness and be so huge she can’t see her feet. The least you can do is not bitch about it.”

Stiles sat there and thought for a second. That was true. The state she was in was his fault. And if he had to put up with as much physical shit as she did (the changing body, the changing center of gravity, how much heavier she was, the fact that she couldn’t sleep on her back), he would be complaining too.

“She’s in her third trimester,” Mrs. McCall said. “It’ll be over before you know it. You’ll be okay. And if you’re worried about sex, there are toys for that. Not trying to be graphic but that part of her body is occupied.”

“I know. It just sucks.”

She ruffled his hair and stood up. “Go back to her. Apologize for whatever you did. Give her a back massage and a foot massage. Tell her you love her. Acknowledge that you have no idea what she’s going through. Grovel. Make her food. Do whatever it takes to make her happy. Okay?”

Stiles sighed and smiled at her. “Thanks, Mrs. McCall. I appreciate it.”

“No problem, Stiles. Feel free to come over when it gets too much.”

He nodded and went back to the Jeep, driving home. He knew he was being stupid. She was _pregnant_ , for God’s sake. Of course she wasn’t in the mood to have sex. Just because he was seventeen didn’t mean he had the right to satisfy his goddamn hormonal urges. When he got back to the house, the Sheriff was waiting outside, his arms folded across his chest.

“Oh, God,” Stiles said, gulping. He got out of the Jeep and tried to look innocent.

“Stiles, where the hell did you go?”

“Scott’s. I talked to Mrs. McCall and I want to apologize to Cora.”

The Sheriff frowned. “For what?”

“What do you mean, for what? For being an asshole.”

“Stiles, she wants to apologize to you. She said she insulted you and you ran off.”

“Dad, can I just go inside? I want to talk to my fiancé.”

He moved past his father and went upstairs, where he could hear Cora crying. Great. He’d made her cry. He knocked softly on the door. “Can I come in, baby?”

The door flew open and Cora pulled him into a hug (as tight as she could, considering the baby in the way). She sobbed into his shirt collar, hands grasping at his back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t leave me, Stiles, please.”

“Hey, hey, shh, don’t say that.” He stroked the back of her head and kissed her temple. “I’m not leaving you. I’m not even mad. I was the one who fucked up, okay? Don’t apologize. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t leave me anymore, Stiles, please.” She pulled back and looked up at him, eyes red and puffy. She looked so pitiful but so beautiful. Maybe that’s why they worked so well; he still thought she was gorgeous even when she cried.

“I’m not leaving you, Cora Hale. Never.”

“I’m sorry for saying you have a small dick. You don’t.”

Stiles laughed and kissed her nose. “It’s okay. I know. I shouldn’t have asked you for sex. I’m gonna make you some hot cocoa and give you a backrub, okay?”

Cora smiled. “Maybe I’ll suck you off afterwards.”

“God, I love you.”

~~~

They did make it to graduation before Cora had the baby. She didn’t walk across the stage but she got her diploma, and she was in the audience for Stiles. They celebrated with sparkling cider (even though they’d planned on wine before she got pregnant) and a nostalgia party with Scott, Allison, Isaac, and the rest.

“I’d like to make a toast!” Stiles said over the conversations at the party, holding up his glass of sparkling cider. All the wolves immediately looked over and the humans quickly followed suit. They all looked up at him, smiling. Even Derek was there (although he was almost hiding in the back).

“Okay,” he said, standing up and holding his glass in the air. “I just…the past few years have been incredibly difficult on all of us, without exception, and the fact that we’re all…almost all here, that’s pretty cool. So. First toast. To those we lost along the way.”

There were some mumbled agreements and the clinking of glasses.

“Secondly,” Stiles continued, “I think we ought to just thank each other. I mean, without you guys…I don’t know where I’d be. I don’t know who I’d be. And I know that nothing can change or destroy the friendships and relationships we have. So. To us.”

The agreements were louder this time and when the clinking stopped, Stiles smiled down at Cora, who was sitting right next to him with a plate of snacks balanced on her belly. She was due in a week and she was _huge_. In a good way.

“Finally, I would like to make a toast to my amazing girlfriend—er, fiancé. The wonderful woman with whom I will spend the rest of my life. I lo—”

“SHIT!” Cora screamed, knocking the plate of snacks to the floor as she clutched at her stomach. “Stiles, fuck, FUCK!”

Stiles dropped his glass and knelt next to her, one hand on her face and the other on her belly. “What is it, baby, what’s wrong?”

“Contractions.”

Stiles whipped his head up and stared at Derek, who was already on his feet, grabbing the hospital bag and car keys.

“Baby, are you sure? You had some last night, are you sure this is it?”

“Stiles, Jesus Christ!” Scott said.

“I know, I know!” He helped Cora to her feet and led her to the front door. “Are you guys gonna be okay?”

“Go to the hospital!” Allison said.

Derek was already in the back of the Jeep when Stiles helped Cora into the passenger seat. The hospital bag was at his feet, and he was shaking slightly. Stiles tried to drive carefully, he really did. But every time Cora groaned or hissed in pain, he pressed the gas pedal a little harder. They pulled into the hospital parking lot, and Derek crawled out the back of the Jeep and came around to help Cora. Stiles ran ahead to open the doors and go to the desk.

“My girlfriend’s in labor!” he said breathlessly.

“How far apart are the contractions?”

Stiles looked over his shoulder at Cora, who mumbled something to Derek. “Four minutes, for about an hour,” he said.

The rest of it went by in a blur, until she was finally in a bed with cords going everywhere and nurses coming in and out constantly. The contractions were three minutes apart now. Stiles tried to make her feel better but there wasn’t really anything he could do. She cursed like a sailor, swearing at Stiles and Derek and the nurses and God and everyone that dared walk by. The Sheriff showed up after about two hours, after work, but he had sense enough to stay away for the worst parts. Besides, Cora and Stiles’ hospital plan only allowed for themselves and Derek to be in the room when the baby came.

Derek started pacing and fidgeting when Cora was about eight centimeters, and eventually left the room for coffee. Stiles followed him.

“Dude, what’s going on?”

Derek huffed and looked at Stiles, his eyes surprisingly terrified. “I just. I’m worried about her. I hope things go okay. This human-wolf combo, it sometimes goes badly. I don’t want to watch her…get hurt.”

“Oh, snap out of it, Hale, you’re not abandoning her now. Get back in the room, okay? You’re the only other person allowed in once she starts pushing.”

“I know, I know, I just…it’s _weird_ because I remember watching Cora’s birth and it’s just…I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair and nodded. “Okay. Okay. I’ll come back. Once I get coffee. Do you want some?”

“Yeah, thanks, bro.”

Derek froze, frowning. “Bro?”

“Yeah, you’re going to be my brother-in-law next year.” Cora and Stiles had discussed the wedding and decided to wait until the baby was a year old before they got married. They would need time to get used to having a child before they were married.

“Stiles, one thing at a time.”

“Right. Get some coffee and come back.” He patted Derek on the arm and stepped back into the room. Cora had a CD playing, some band called the Mountain Goats, which was supposed to calm her down. It wasn’t working.

“Fucking FUCK!” she screamed, hands grasping the bed rails tightly. Stiles was surprised she hadn’t broken the damn bed yet, with her werewolf strength. Some part of her probably knew it was a bad idea to out herself like that. “Stiles, I hate you so fucking much!”

“I know you do,” he said, brushing her hair out of her face.

“No, you don’t under _stand_ , I hate you and I’m never letting you put your pencil dick in me ever fucking again!”

“I know.”

The doctor said it would be like this. Stiles was the brunt of her pain because he was the one who got her pregnant. He’d been weathering the insults and the name-calling and the screaming for about five hours now. He really, really hoped she’d just have the damn baby already, but he wasn’t going to complain. He had no idea how much this hurt.

Cora relaxed against the bed after a moment, panting. “I’m sorry, I don’t hate you, I’m sorry,” she sobbed as tears rolled down her cheeks. “It just _hurts_ , baby, it hurts so bad.”

“It’ll be over soon, I promise.” Stiles kissed her forehead, dabbed her face with a damp washcloth, and let her sip some water.

“You’ve been saying that for three _hours_. I don’t know how much more I can take. I don’t think I can do this.”

“Baby, listen to me. You’re gonna get through this and you know what we’re gonna have when this is over?”

“A baby.”

“Yep. Our own baby. God, you’re doing so good, you know that? You’re doing great. I love you and you’re doing great.”

“Where’s my brother?”

“He went to get coffee, he’ll be right back.” Stiles checked his watch quickly. “Do you want to get on all fours for the next one?”

“Come here.” Stiles leaned in closer, and Cora put her hand on the back of his neck to hold his head in place. “Don’t you ever do this to me again, you got that? Or I will shove a watermelon up your ass.”

“Got it,” Stiles laughed, kissing her nose and pulling out of her grasp. He didn’t want to risk claws to the back of his neck when her next contraction hit, which should be about—

“FUCK!”

“Right on time,” he mumbled, wiping her face with the washcloth as she cursed at him, cursing his mother and his father and his grandparents and the fish that started the line of Stilinskis. He was very glad when Derek came back, because that meant the heat was off him for a bit. He sat in a chair and sipped the coffee, watching Derek weather the insults until the contraction was over.

“I’m sorry,” Cora said, as she did after every single goddamn contraction. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean it.”

“We know,” Derek said, kissing her forehead. “We know, that’s why we’re going along with it. You’re doing great, okay?”

“I want to push.”

Stiles shot out of his seat, nearly spilling the coffee everywhere. “No! You’re not dilated enough!”

“I don’t care, I don’t care, just get me the fucking doctor, I want to _push_!”

Stiles watched Derek run out of the room, returning a moment later with Cora’s carefully-selected doctor, a woman named Helen Hart who knew about werewolves.

“All right, Cora, let’s take a look,” she said, pulling on gloves and sitting in the chair at Cora’s feet. “Stirrups, kid.” Stiles helped Cora put her feet in the stirrups, moving back to her head because he still wasn’t good with gore, and as many times as he’d eaten her out, this was a whole different ball game.

“I wanna push, Dr. Hart, I want—”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” Dr. Hart called in a nurse to help with her inspection (which Stiles still couldn’t see) and then she smiled up at Cora. “Ten centimeters, kid. You want to push? Wait for the next contraction and go right ahead.”

Stiles stared, dumbfounded. “Are you…are you serious? It’s time?”

Dr. Hart nodded. “What’s going to happen now is, she’s got to push the baby down the birth canal, and the uterus would do that itself but it can’t hurt to help it along a bit. It normally takes about an hour for the first one, give or take. But you can do it, Cora, you hear? You’re gonna have a baby. I’m going to go get the gear on and some nurses will be in here with me. Dad, you staying?”

Stiles didn’t respond for a second before he realized that “Dad” was him. That’ll take some getting used to. “Oh. Yeah, yeah, me and Derek are staying.”

“The nurses will bring in stuff for you two to wear as well. Keep her comfortable, Dad.”

Stiles stared at Derek, who looked terrified and close to tears. “Man up, Uncle Derek,” he said, even though he too was terrified. “We have a birth to watch.”

~~~

It was a messy affair, all in all. Stiles was up by Cora’s head, mumbling words of encouragement in her ear, while Derek was flitting back and forth between her head and her feet, spending more time below once the baby crowned. (Seeing the baby’s head made Stiles burst into tears, and he didn’t stop crying until well after the birth.) There were all sorts of fluids everywhere (which explained the gear the nurses were all wearing), and Stiles didn’t even want to ask where it came from. He didn’t want to miss a single second of this by passing out.

The first sound of the baby’s voice…Stiles had actually pulled out his phone and recorded it, still sobbing. When she was finally out (it was a girl, A GIRL!), Dr. Hart clamped off the umbilical cord and offered Stiles scissors.

“Go on, Dad,” she said, grinning.

He took a deep breath to keep from shaking and carefully snipped the cord. It was tougher than he’d imagined, but he did it, and there she was, there was his baby girl, his daughter. The nurses cleaned her up and wrapped her in a blanket and put her in Cora’s arms while the afterbirth was still going on (something even Derek didn’t want to see). Cora didn’t say a word. She just stared, open-mouthed, tears streaking down her cheeks. Stiles sneakily took a picture, which he didn’t plan on posting to Facebook or showing any of his friends. This was for Cora, so she could always remember this moment. Not that she’d forget.

“Why don’t you let Daddy hold her for a second?” Dr. Hart said sweetly. “We have to get you cleaned up, honey.”

Stiles made sure Cora was okay before gently, _very gently_ lifting his daughter from Cora’s arms. She was so small and so light. (They later weighed her in at 7 pounds, 8 ounces. Healthy weight.) Her eyes were brown, and she had Stiles’ nose, and the first thing she did was sniff him and relax her face. She recognized his scent. She knew who he was.

“Hi, baby,” he murmured through his tears. “Hi. I’m your Daddy. My God, you’re so beautiful. Hi, Talia.”

Derek let out a sob. They’d kept the names secret from him because Cora knew how much it would mean to him. Cora reached out from the bed and squeezed Derek’s hand, and Stiles laughed.

“So much for the sour wolf,” he said, absentmindedly rocking his body back and forth. He later figured out that was a good way to get the baby to sleep, and he would be happy that the instinct was so strong in him.

“You’ve been crying for an hour, shut up,” Derek replied. “God, Cora, she’s beautiful. I love you.”

Dr. Hart brought in a piece of paper. “Birth certificate!” she said happily, not fazed by the three sobbing messes in the room. “I’ve got Father and Mother but what about Baby?”

“Talia,” Cora said. “T-A-L-I-A. Middle name Claudia.”

“And are we going with Hale-Stilinski?” Dr. Hart asked, looking up from the certificate.

“No.” Stiles whipped his head over to Cora, who was smiling at him. “Just Stilinski.”

“Do you also do weddings?” Stiles asked, which made Cora laugh.

“Keep that enthusiasm, because that was the easy part,” Dr. Hart said, letting them both sign the birth certificate. “After she feeds, we’re going to take her for some footprints. Do you two want a copy?”

“Yes,” Stiles and Cora said in unison.

“Good. You should try breastfeeding, Cora, see if she’ll take. If not, we can bring in a specialist to help you. Congratulations.”

After she left, Stiles let Derek hold Talia for a bit before Cora wanted to breastfeed. Derek left as she started, but Stiles didn’t care anymore. He couldn’t stop staring at the baby. His baby. His daughter. _His daughter_. He’d never get over that.

“She looks like you,” Cora said as she tried to get the baby to latch. Talia actually managed pretty well, for a first-timer.

“She looks like you, actually.”

“Fine, she looks like both of us.”

Stiles laughed and leaned over the baby to kiss Cora lightly. “I love you. More than anything. Well. Except her.”

“I love you, doofus.”

He smiled and sat in the chair by her bed. They were silent, except the little noises Talia made as she fed. After a few minutes, Cora reached over and held Stiles’ hand, entwining their fingers and squeezing. Stiles was exhausted, and he knew Cora was even more tired, but every cell in his body wanted to stay awake forever so he wouldn’t miss a single moment.

“I’m starting at the police academy soon,” he said.

“I know. Your dad told me.”

“You’re okay with that?”

Cora laughed. “We can’t survive forever on the mall job. I’m okay with it.”

“I also bought a shit-ton of condoms. Not doing this again anytime soon.”

“I’m thinking yellow.”

Stiles frowned. “What are you talking about? I don’t think I can order exclusively yellow condoms…”

“No, Stiles, no, I mean her room. Painted yellow.”

He smiled widely, feeling his heart swell with love. Pure, unadulterated love. It had been a mistake, having sex without a condom, absolutely, and one he didn’t plan on repeating. But he didn’t regret it one bit. How could he? He was engaged to the most wonderful woman who had just given birth to the most beautiful baby and he was the luckiest man alive.

“I like yellow,” he replied, kissing her hand.


End file.
